Kryptonite
by Dejirah
Summary: A story loosely based on the song "Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down. Draco is having nightmares that are slowly driving him mad. Narcissa contacts Harry in a desperate attempt to save her son. Narcissa uses an ancient bonding spell to save her beloved Draco.


Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters associated with it. I do, however, own the plot.

I first got the idea when thinking about the fanfiction I read called Owned by Jordan Grant while listening to the song Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down. I plan on having about twenty chapters total. Thank you for reading my first ever fanfiction!

Thank you to Maggie, my friend on tumblr, for being my beta on this story! You're a fantastic friend, girl!

Just an fyi, I didn't mean for this chapter to go like this. It got away from me and turned itself into a monster with fights, food, and a smut scene… Oops.

Kryptonite

Prologue

_~I walk around the world~  
~To ease my troubled mind~_

Harry Potter took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. He hated feeling hateful. He disliked not liking someone. Harry also knew, however, this was the one man he is willing to hate. So why couldn't he just hate him?

Harry sighed and leaned his back against the brick wall behind him. He had a tough decision to make. His troubles seemed to trace back to one week ago, the minute he'd received an invitation to Malfoy Manor. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to remember the occasion.

~~HP~~

Taking a seat at his desk, Harry rest his head in his hands. Why had he accepted the position of Head Auror? It wasn't as if the job were easy and laid-back. Harry actually hated the job. He hated being an auror. He just wanted a quiet life with no one following him around like a little puppy dog. He wanted to find love with someone who loved him for who he is, not what he is. There's more to Harry than just being the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice.

A note came flying out of his Floo, requesting his presence at Malfoy Manor that evening at seven o'clock sharp. He let himself sigh and threw the note away after mentally reminding himself to attend, however much he did not want to. He hadn't been to Malfoy Manor since the year he spent hunting horcruxes, the year Malfoy had decided not to give Harry up to his aunt. Harry occasionally still thought about what Malfoy had risked for him.

The year after Voldemort's defeat, Harry had gone back to Hogwarts for his final year, accompanied by Hermione, Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Malfoy among other students from their year. Immediately after school, Harry moved into number 12 Grimmauld Place and was recruited by the Auror department at the Ministry and had accepted the position with one condition, that Ron be accepted as well. The two had started out as partners and the two of them steadily solved the toughest of the Auror's cases and were promoted. Eventually, after three years, Ron was vice-head of the department with Harry as head. Why had he accepted the job? Ron would have been much better. He would have been stronger, more mentally stable, and he always seemed to have the best organizational strategies the department could have ever invented.

A knock on the door pulled Harry from his reminiscing. He called, "Enter" and his secretary did so. She brought biscuits and a cup of tea for him. He sighed when he saw her and took them, "Thanks, Evelyne." The elderly woman, nearing her 65th birthday, inclined her head with a smile and set the tea and biscuits down on Harry's desk.

Harry hurried up with his tea and biscuits, hurrying to finish all of his work for the day so he could go home and figure out what he was going to wear to the Malfoy's. Sure, he'd never been the most fashion forward, but the invitation was extremely formal and the war was over. There was no reason to intentionally snub Narcissa and her son, not after the public execution of Lucius Malfoy. Since becoming the department head, his wardrobe had become much more formal and fashionable. Hermione had decided to bring Ron and Harry out for a promotion-shopping trip. Smiling softly, Harry thought fondly of his friend as he packed to Floo home. That was the one good thing about having his own office. He had his own personal Floo.

The trip home was a quick one and Harry went straight to the shower. He quickly cleaned his hair and skin before climbing out and wrapping a towel around his waist. He towel dried his hair and combed it so that it looked slightly more tamed than his usual bird's nest made of hair. He walked to his bedroom and towards the large closet, magically enhanced, thanks to Hermione. He chose a set of dress robes, a dark grey with red trim. He also chose a white shirt to go beneath it that would peak out over the top and decided on wearing a neutral colored tie of red and silver.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror and apparated to the site outside Malfoy Manor before walking up the long drive to the towering house. He knocked twice with the dragon knocker at exactly seven in the evening. This was the moment to be punctual. Narcissa would appreciate punctual. She answered the door a few moments after Harry's knock and smiled widely.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. What a pleasure; do come in. It is a bit chilly outside for you to stand there in such thin robes." She opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side gracefully, allowing him room to enter. He did so and as soon as he crossed the threshold, he felt the magical protection he had been offered by being invited inside. The Manor's magic would protect him whilst he was inside it.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Harry said as he took her proffered hand and bent low over it in a deep bow. "It has been too long since I have looked into the face of one as beautiful as you." He knew the traditions. The expectations. He usually refused to use them, but after witnessing the tragedy that befell her and her son after Lucius death, how could he ever disrespect the glowing woman before him?

"Mr. Potter, how many times must I tell you? Call me Narcissa, I insist. Now, if you would follow me, we have drinks waiting in the drawing room. Knovas, fetch my son." She gestured to the drawing room before giving the waiting house-elf an order and following her guest into the room. She sat, gracefully, on a low-backed, deep red couch, the perfect picture of posture and grace. Harry sat across from her in a high-back, cream-colored chair and took the glass of sweet white wine offered by another of Narcissa's house-elves.

The two sat there, each with calculating eyes on each other, sitting in comfortable silence until the silence was broken by Malfoy entering the room in his perfectly silver with green trim robes. "Potter." He spat the word as if it would be the death of him to keep it in his mouth too long.

"Malfoy." Harry turned his head towards the pale boy, leveling him with a glare before returning the gaze to Narcissa with a smile. "Now that your son is here as well, might I ask why I have been summoned to your home?"

"Oh, Harry. I have a predicament. You see, since the war, Draco has been having nightmares. He will explain them." At her son's snort of indignation, Narcissa glared at him. "And explain he will." She then continued on, explaining the reason Harry was there, "My son needs help. He needs a psychiatrist. We do not want the wizarding world to know about my son's malady. We require someone who he can talk to and not fear others discovering his secrets. We found a spell that would bind him to someone, a person who would help him and would be unable, due to the nature of the spell, to repeat what they hear to anyone outside the two-person relationship. In addition, this spell is complex and we need a strong wizard to bond with my son. That would be you." She paused before finishing. "We can only give you a week to decide; any later than that will be extremely detrimental to my son's already compromised health."

~~HP~~

Harry sighed and continued his walk. He had to give Narcissa his answer by tonight. It was currently three in the afternoon and he had taken the day off work. He was of more than half of a mind to refuse the request outright. However, he couldn't do that. He had too much of a hero-complex.

Harry kicked the wall and apparated home as soon as he was out of view of any muggles. He immediately showered and dressed, again in dress robes, only these were dark violet with silver trim. He wore no tie with the white shirt beneath the robe. He had been given instructions from Narcissa to use the Floo network and Floo straight into their house tonight. As soon as he was ready, he did so.

He was greeted by a house-elf, one he hadn't met yet and led to the same drawing room as before, where both Narcissa and Malfoy were already seated. Narcissa raised an eyebrow and smiled softly as Harry sat across from them, holding the wine glass he had nearly thrust into his hand by a nervous house-elf.

Malfoy scowled as his mother asked, "So, Harry. Your decision?"

Harry took a deep breath, ready to explain reasons he couldn't do it, when for an unexplainable reason, the words, "I'll do it" came out of his opened mouth.

**PROLOGUE ****END**

Kryptonite

Chapter One

_~I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time~_

Harry saw Malfoy's head snap up to look at him, a disbelieving look on his face. He watched as Narcissa's expressions changed from neutral to surprise, suspicion, disbelieving, concern, and it snapped back to neutral when she realized she was projecting her emotions. Harry sat under the scrutiny of both Malfoy's eyes as he tried not to squirm uncomfortably. Eventually, the silence was broken by Narcissa's choked voice. "Really?" she asked with a disbelieving tone.

Harry nodded once, ignoring the glares from Malfoy. "Shall we do this now then?"

Narcissa smiled softly before she stood. She held a hand out for Harry, which he took and rested her hand on his arm delicately. "Come, Draco." Harry heard a sigh from behind them before the couch creaked and the youngest Malfoy stood to follow.

Narcissa led the two boys to a nearly empty room. Polished hardwood floors sang when they stepped on them. The circular room held nothing except a small table with an open book, a candle, and a knife. Harry raised an eyebrow as Malfoy scowled at him.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I really don't."

"Oh, of course. Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world, never understands the consequences of what he runs headfirst into." Malfoy exhaled a breath through his nose as he snorted at Harry.

"Oh shut up, Malfoy."

The two followed Narcissa to the center of the room, floors singing like a discordant symphony. Standing in the center, the two faced each other as Narcissa stood behind the table. "Harry. This is ancient magic. It takes a blood bond to complete. I am going to recite the spell now. When I nod, take the knife, cut your hand, and give it to Draco. He'll cut his own hand and then you will place your now bleeding palms together." Harry nodded.

Narcissa raised her hands above her head and spoke, "Profunda antique magicae, ego introducetis hos duos masculos postulantes pro vinculum creari. Erit vinculo colligatus utriusque corpora, mens et anima. Cum sanguinis fiat*." She brought her hands down and nodded at Harry. He took the knife and made a cut before passing the knife to Malfoy. The only thing that betrayed the fact that it was painful was the sharp inhale of breath through Malfoy's clenched teeth as he dropped the knife and held his hand out, his eyes glaring daggers at Harry.

Harry took the offered hand with his injured one and their blood mingled. He could feel the way the magic blended between the two bodies, and nearly pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. Malfoy seemed to be having a hard time not doing the exact same thing.

Narcissa turned towards Harry, "Repeat after me, please. I, Harry Potter, bind myself to Draco Malfoy." Harry repeated the words and she turned to her son. "I, Draco Malfoy, am bonded to Harry Potter and have done so willingly." Malfoy scowled but repeated the words. As soon as the magic died down, the bond was formed. An outline of a blue chain wrapped itself around their wrists and hands. The chain eventually settled down and rested as a light turquoise chain encircling their right wrists, looking like a badly chosen tattoo.

Harry glanced at Malfoy with an eyebrow raised. He then turned to Narcissa and asked, "What… Exactly happened?"

She smiled sadly and took Harry aside as Malfoy left the room and went to what Harry assumed was his room. "Harry. The ancient magic has now bond Draco and you together. You are now one, mind, body, and soul. He cannot leave you. You are the bond maker, so he has no power you do not wish him to have. He cannot hurt you, and you cannot hurt him. This is magic even more ancient than the Unbreakable vow. You are bonded. The only way to break the bond is for one of you to… perish." She looked down and whispered as if pained in some way, "This was the last resort. Our last chance. Please help my son, Harry Potter."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was… bonded? To Draco Malfoy? Of all people? It was like an ancient form of marriage. _'No,'_ he thought as he continued to listen to Narcissa, _'it is an ancient form of marriage.'_ He was married. To Draco Malfoy. His expression gave away his feelings, confusion, concern, disbelief, worry, and most of all, a lack of anger. He didn't know why, but he couldn't be angry. Sure, he was angry at the situation, but he couldn't be angry with the small woman before him who was only looking after her son with a mother's love. He couldn't be angry with Malfoy, because he had obviously not wanted to do this in the first place.

Harry sighed and sat back as he absentmindedly healed his hand. He had no concept of time. He sat on the floor for what could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Closing his eyes, he thought about what happened. He was bonded to Draco Malfoy. He snorted, _'Funny. Hate the bugger all your life and end up bonded to him. Why can't I hate him for this? And what are these dreams that have his mother so worried?'_ Harry exhaled out of his nose and opened his eyes, coming face to face with stormy silver eyes.

"Ah!" Harry jumped, his heart hammering in his throat.

Malfoy snickered and resumed his stony glare. With a sigh, Harry raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Malfoy?"

"Do you even understand the ramifications of this spell? We're _bonded_. Potter, no one better hear about this, you understand me?"

Harry stared at Malfoy before nodding once. "Alright. Well, since we're bonded, we best be moving in together and I'm not moving here, so I guess you're coming with me."

The taller boy nodded and stood up. "Figured that. I've already packed. Might as well be off then. Meet you in the foyer in two minutes." He left with a flourish and Harry stood, brushed himself off, and left to the foyer.

Exactly two minutes after the two had separated, Malfoy appeared in the foyer with his trunks floating in tow. He set them down and flicked his wand, tapping the trunks once each to shrink them to fit in his pocket. He placed them in his pocket and turned to Harry. "Let's go."

With a sigh, Harry put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder and quickly apparated them to his home in Grimmauld Place. As soon as they landed, he took his hand off the taller boy's shoulder as if he had been burned and turned towards the kitchen. "Tea, Malfoy?"

As he was putting the kettle on the stove—he didn't like using magic for trivial things like tea unless there were visitors he actually cared about—he heard Malfoy say from the foyer, "Earl Grey, two sugars and a bit of cream. Your furniture doesn't match."

Harry scoffed and shook his head. Leave it to Malfoy to judge his _furniture_, of all things. He finished the tea and poured it into two saucers, bringing them, along with Malfoy's sugar and spoons, out to the living room, the sugar floating behind him. He set the teacups on the coffee table, grabbed the sugar and spoons out of the air, and set them on the table as well. "Well, your tea has arrived. I assume, as a twenty-one year old can fix himself his tea." With that, Harry plopped himself onto the orange-and-blue-stripped couch.

With a scowl, Draco walked over and gingerly lowered himself onto the couch as if the object would bite him. Once he was seated, he leaned back, only to be swallowed by the couch cushions as he sunk down in the over-used couch. "Potter, your furniture is eating me!" He screeched.

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "It is not. It's just old. Now, here's your tea." He handed over the cup of steaming tea and dropped two sugar cubes into the cup. "I'll take your trunks to your room."

Harry took out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy's hip, where the shrunken trunks were kept out of sight, and pulled them from Malfoy's pocket before unshrinking them. He then walked up the stairs—passed the line of house-elf heads—and turned into the first bedroom, trunks floating in tow. He let them down at the end of the bed and looked around the room. Gryffindor colors wouldn't suit Malfoy. With a sigh, he waved his wand and the red changed to green while the gold changed to silver. The lion posters turned to snakes. The entire room was transformed to suit a Slytherin. With a sigh, Harry said goodbye to the Gryffindor room and turned to leave, coming face to face with those stormy, silver eyes again.

"Ah!" Harry took a step back. "Stop that!"

Malfoy chuckled and entered the room, walking around Potter to do so. "Nice decorating. Is it for me?" He asked as he turned with a smirk to the Hero-of-the-Wizarding-World.

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded once. "Of course. I'm not sharing a room with you." He then turned and left, leaving an angry Malfoy in his wake. Harry headed up to his room and sighed, shaking his head as he walked into the en suite bathroom. The bathroom hadn't been there before, but he'd expanded the house and remodeled a few rooms. His room, the master, was large enough to include his large, king-size bed with a low-backed couch at the foot of the bed, along with two chairs angled to face the coffee table, where a small vase held colored marbles from a muggle furniture store. On the wall facing the bed was a fireplace and above that was a portrait of Ron, Hermione, and himself after they'd finished their eighth year at Hogwarts. Three smaller photos hung just below that, at eyelevel, one of each of the three friends. The friends kept looking between photo frames and smiling mischievously.

To the right side of the room was the en suite bathroom, complete with two sinks, marble countertops, a rainforest shower enclosed in glass walls, and a deep tub. To the left of the room was a walk-in closet that held all of Harry's clothes.

Harry had remodeled two other rooms, one being Malfoy's room, the other being the kitchen. Malfoy's room was laid out similar to Harry's, but with less space, so instead of having a fireplace and an entire seating area, Malfoy just had his trunks at the end of his bed. Another difference was the bed. Malfoy's was a queen bed, with silk sheets and fluffy pillows. His bed also had drapes that could close. The bathroom was similar, with only one sink, and no tub. However, Harry had made the closet the same size as his own. The kitchen, however, Harry had magically enlarged to accommodate the island bar with a countertop stove, an industrial size refrigerator, double ovens with a built in microwave, and a large sink. The upper cabinets were a rich, dark wood with stainless steel hardware and a frosted glass front. The lower cabinets were made of the same wood and had the same hardware, without the glass. The countertops were made of sandstone. All in all, the three remodeled rooms were completely modern, but the rest of the house remained as it had been, old furniture, photos of ancestors past, the house-elf heads, and the closed curtains covering Sirius' mother's portrait. She still yelled at Harry whenever he accidentally opened the drapes.

Harry sighed as he sunk into the deep tub, feeling all of his muscles relax as he slowly lowered himself into the hot water. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, allowing his body to release the tension it had built up since bonding to Malfoy. Slowly, he drifted to sleep.

~~HP~~

Burning. He was burning. He was being drowned in this sensation; all of his limbs felt as if they were on fire. He could feel his body breaking down, his lungs giving out. He felt the air leave his body, his heart slowly twitch a few more times, his blood slow down. With a gasp, he was released from the _Crucio_ and willed his body to curl into a protective ball on the floor. He took a deep breath before looking up into the face of the one and only thing he truly feared, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"You failed me. Nott, again."

The pain returned as it had been, burning throughout his body, searing itself onto his organs. He felt as if his insides were liquefying. Bile rose in his throat and he screamed, blood-curling screams of pain and remorse. He saw a hand movement and the pain stopped again.

"Stand up, you coward."

Pulling himself into a seated position, he slowly forced himself to stand to his feet before the Dark Lord. He kept his eyes lowered more out of fear than respect. Fear of being put under the _Crucio _again, fear of death, fear of what this man would do to torture him. The fear ran through his veins, turning his blood to ice. He could feel his magic move to protect him as best it could in its weakened state before the next curse hit him. He readied himself for the pain that would come. Except, it didn't.

He raised his eyes and looked into eyes as fearful as his own. He looked into the deep grey eyes he had inherited. He was looking into his mother's eyes. And he knew. He knew what the Dark Lord would do. He would put his mother under the curse to torture him further. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he watched his mother scream and writhe under the spell's claws, her body being torn apart from the inside out. He vaguely remembered screaming for the Dark Lord to stop, that he would never fail again, that he would follow for eternity, as long as his mother's suffering would end. But the Dark Lord just laughed. And that laugh was the last thing he heard before suffering at the hands of Theodore Nott's _Crucio_ for the third time.

~~HP~~

Harry woke with a jolt, his breathing heavy as he recalled the details of the dream. His throat was raw from his screaming, his cheeks warm from the tears he'd unconsciously shed. He saw the pink tint to the bath water as he reached a hand to his head and felt the sticky blood. He'd hit his head while dreaming. Sighing, Harry got out of the bath, grabbed his wand, and healed his head quickly before dressing and going downstairs. He found Malfoy on the couch, a book on his lap.

"What are you reading?" He asked cautiously before seating himself on the opposite side of the couch.

"It's a book on runes." Malfoy mumbled before finishing the paragraph, putting his bookmarker in, setting the book on the coffee table, and turning to face Harry. "You were screaming."

Harry absentmindedly traced the turquoise chain around his wrist before answering, "Just a dream."

Malfoy shook his head before lightly punching Harry's shoulder, "Make me food. I'm starved over here." For added effects, Malfoy draped an arm over his eyes and leaned back on the couch, pretending to faint from lack of food.

Chuckling softly, Harry shook his head and stood up, walking to the kitchen to make food for the two of them. He was unsure of what kind of food Malfoy would want, so he decided to make a safe meal, consisting of steak, mashed potatoes, a Tuscan salad, pudding, and fruit. He quickly got to work on the potatoes, peeling them and putting them in the water to soften before moving to the fruit. He sliced strawberries, kiwis, and bananas, washed blackberries and raspberries, and set them to the side, ready to be combined just before the meal began.

Harry got out the steaks from the refrigerator and set them on the counter. He cleaned them and seasoned them up before placing them on a slow-cooking grill and covering them with a lid to keep in moisture. He then got to work on the salad, placing green beans in salted, boiling water to soften. As soon as the beans were ready, he took them out, placed them in a bowl of ice water and let it cool. While it was cooling, he tore a head of Romaine lettuce as well as drained and rinsed a can of cannellini beans. He then sliced a half a red union before combining the two beans, lettuce, and red onion. He made a dressing of lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil, salt, and pepper to be added just before the salad was topped with parmesan cheese.

Moving beak to the steaks, Harry turned them over before mashing up the potatoes. He added butter and allowed it to melt into the soft potatoes. Adding salt, pepper, and chopped chives added a bit more flavor to the potatoes. Next, Harry pulled out the pudding he'd made the day before from the refrigerator and dished it into a serving bowl. With a wave of his wand, the dishes began to move and set the table while he finished the steaks and cut them into thin slices of meat. He fanned the meat on the plates, added potatoes to the side, topped the salad with dressing and cheese before dishing it onto the plates, mixed the fruit and added that beside the salad, and added a small dollop of pudding to the small bowl beside the plate. He then poured pumpkin juice into the two glasses and called for Malfoy. "Food!"

Cooking was something Harry did well. He could follow the recipe and his instincts to create different meals that both looked and tasted delicious. He enjoyed being in the kitchen; it was one of the reasons he'd remodeled the kitchen. He could cook but he couldn't follow a potions recipe to save his life. It was just too different. Sure, you follow a recipe, combine ingredients at the right time, and stir the potion, but potions were too specific. One stir too many and you could blow up the entire cauldron. He knew. He'd done it. But, in cooking, stirring one too many times didn't change the flavor too much, there were no disastrous results, and the flavor usually tasted better when Harry followed his instincts.

Malfoy came and sat at the table, his eyes wide. "You cooked this?"

Harry nodded and sat down, picking up his fork and knife and began eating the meal while Malfoy continued to stare at the food. It was the same quality as the food he ate back at Malfoy Manor. He eventually began to eat and was pleasantly surprised the food didn't eat him back as Potter's potions would have. "How can you cook so well and be so awful at potions?"

Harry had a mouthful so he just shrugged and gestured for Malfoy to eat. Once he'd swallowed, he said, "You're doing the dishes," and continued to eat his meal, a small smirk on his lips at the incredulous look on Malfoy's face.

"A Malfoy does not do dishes." Malfoy said.

"Too bad you live with me and you're bonded to me, then."

Malfoy grumbled and continued to eat, causing Harry to feel better at seeing the Malfoy eat. He felt a desire deep inside himself to protect Malfoy and keep him from all harm. The feeling was fighting with the years old rivalry. With a sigh, Harry finished his meal and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and smiling softly. He kept his wand close, in his back pocket as usual, just in case. Just because Narcissa said they couldn't harm each other didn't mean Malfoy wouldn't try.

Harry sighed and stood, pulling his wand out of his pocket. With a wave, the food was gone and the dishes cleaned and put away. Looking up, Harry saw Malfoy staring at the table with a slightly forlorn, nostalgic look on his delicate features. He sat down again, looking across to Malfoy. "What's wrong?"

Malfoy sighed and shook his head slowly, white-blonde hair falling into his eyes before he looked up at Harry, his eyes shielded but the pain evident on his face. He seemed so far away. Harry bit his lip as he reached a hand slowly across the table, resting it lightly on Malfoy's clenched one. Malfoy wretched his hand away, shouting, "No! Stop! I won't fail you again! Please!" He pushed his chair back, tipping it over as he fell to the ground in an attempt to get away from Harry—or rather, who he thought Harry was.

Harry stood and ran around the table, crouching beside Malfoy and he drew the taller boy into his arms. Lightly running his hands down the boy's hair, he whispered for Malfoy to calm down, he was safe; no one was going to hurt him. Slowly, Malfoy brought his hands up and gripped onto Harry's shirt, his eyes wide and staring at the same place, the spot Harry had been standing as if whatever was poisoning his mind were still standing there. Eventually, his eyes glazed over in confusion and he turned his head to look at Harry, who was holding him close and rubbing his hand over Malfoy's back in soothing circles.

Pulling out of Harry's comforting arms, Malfoy moved away to put space between the two. "Don't… Don't tell anyone about this…" The bond on their wrists brightened again as Harry felt the experience lock inside himself, only to be spoken about with Malfoy. His throat closed and Harry nodded once.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Harry asked cautiously.

Draco shook his head to clear whatever was left of the experience and whispered, "It was just a memory. The Dark—no, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named put me under the _Cruciatus_ curse three times after I failed to kill Dumbledore myself. He also put my mother under it, through Theodore Nott."

Harry nodded before the dream he'd had in the bath came flooding back to his memory. He fell back, landing on his bottom and placed a hand to his head, wincing as a subtle pain flared through the now useless scar. The thought of Voldemort sometimes did that to him.

"I… I think the dream I had earlier was your memory," Harry whispered through a constricted throat.

At this, Malfoy jumped and raised an eyebrow, "Really? That's a bit of an… unexpected development."

"You thought this would happen?" Harry asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

"It was a possible side effect of the bonding process. I suppose the magic decided we weren't close enough and decided to bond us in memories and dreams as well."

"Wait! So you have some of my memories!?" Malfoy just shrugged and stood up, brushing himself off.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to take a bath." And with that, he left.

Harry sat on the floor, leaning himself against the wall and closed his eyes to take all the information in. The horrendous dream he'd had earlier was actually one of Malfoy's memories from sixth year? That made more sense as to why Malfoy looked like death that year. But if that was just one memory, how many more like that did he have? Was this what Narcissa said was detrimental to Draco's health? Was she talking about the episode he had at the table?

Harry sighed; he had his work cut out for him. Opening his eyes, he nearly contained the scream that tried to leave his throat, coming out in only a squeak. Malfoy was standing there with a towel draped across his broad shoulders, chest covered in small water droplets. He was wearing green pajama pants. Malfoy's white blonde hair was sticking to his forehead and dripping water onto his cheeks, his stormy grey eyes filled with mirth at the squeak that had come from his previous archenemy. "Scared, Potter?" He sneered.

"Not of a pretty boy like you, Malfoy." Harry retorted.

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty? I suppose I get my delicate features from my mother, hm?"

Harry sighed exasperatedly and smiled at Malfoy. "You git." Shaking his head, Harry stood up and leaned against the doorframe as Malfoy turned and walked back into the living room, swaying his hips as if he were a delicate Lady before walking up the stairs and turning his head, coming face to face with a house-elf head. He screamed and fell down the two stairs he was standing on. Harry snickered at the horrified expression on Malfoy's face, "Scared, Malfoy?"

Malfoy scowled, "What are these things doing here anyways? They're… tacky. And disgusting. And revolting. Throw them out."

Harry shook his head, "Can't. Walburga Black would scream at me more than she already does."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "She yells at you? She always liked me."

With a surprised expression, Harry looked at Malfoy, "When did you meet her?"

Malfoy, with a smug look on his face, said, "Before she died. I saw her once a month from when I was born until I was five when she passed away."

Harry grumbled under his breath, "Leave it to Malfoy," before he looked at the taller boy again. "So, you've been here before?"

"My mother showed me all the secret hiding places and passages."

Sighing, Harry decided he might need to find a way to get that information out of Malfoy at a later date. But for now, he was exhausted. He made his way across the living room, passing Malfoy as he walked up the stairs, and turned around, facing his previous nemesis currently standing at the bottom of the steep staircase. "Well, I'm knackered. I'm off to bed."

Malfoy looked like he was about to say something before he bit his lip. With a sigh, Harry asked him what it was, and he said in a voice so soft, his response was nearly unheard, "It's our first night as bonded. We're supposed to sleep together."

Harry shrugged, "So join me then."

The other boy shook his head and said, "No. I mean, _sleep_ together."

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering why his answer wasn't satisfactory and Malfoy felt the need to repeat himself before realization hit him like a well-placed hex. "Oh. Oh. Um… Well…" He paused to think and said, "I suppose… Well… Just come upstairs."

Malfoy followed Harry upstairs, seething at the complete idiocy of the man he was following. "Are you an idiot? How did it take you that long to figure out what I meant? No wonder Uncle Severus never passed you in his potions classes; you really are an incompetent twit."

As soon as Malfoy had entered the room, Harry slammed him against the wall, exclaiming, "Are you bloody kiddin' me? It's not my fault you think you're so high and mighty that no one's intelligence can compare to yours! I heard you failed Care of Magical Creatures. How do you fail that? It's like failing a physical education class at a Muggle high school!"

Malfoy grabbed Harry's shirt and shoved him back, causing Harry to fall onto the bed. "I don't know what you meant by that, but I'm pretty sure it was an insult. And I'll have you know I only failed Care of Magical Creatures once and that was third year when that bloody hippogriff tried to kill me!" He reached down and splayed a hand over Harry's chest, pushing him back down into the bed as he shoved his arm against Harry's throat. Seething, he said, "Potions, of all the subjects, is most similar to Muggle cooking, for crying out loud! You're a fantastic cook, but a horrendous potions maker! How did you even pass your OWL to get into the NEWT potions class sixth year?!"

Harry felt a jump in his body near his groin, but ignored it to respond to Malfoy. "You really think I'm a good cook?"

Malfoy blanched and nearly pulled away from Harry before looking down at the hand still on Harry's chest, mumbling, "Well, yeah. The food tonight was delicious."

Biting his lower lip, Harry flicked his glance to Malfoy's face, taking in the slightly pink cheeks—the beginnings of a blush—and the pink across the nose, the pale skin, stormy and sweltering grey eyes, white blonde hair that fell in wisps into his eyes, the delicate cheekbones and facial structure, the soft, delicate pink lips—wait. Why was he thinking about Malfoy's _lips_? It wasn't as if he wanted to _kiss_ the boy. Was it?

Apparently reading his mind, Draco leaned down and, quickly flicking his tongue across his lower lip, pressed his lips against Harry's lips. Harry felt another of that strange electric feeling near his most sensitive area, and ignored it again to kiss Draco back. Suddenly, Malfoy's tongue was in Harry's mouth with an exploring and inquiring, but hesitant, intent.

Harry felt a small groan escape his throat as he pressed his hips up into the other boy's, causing a low growl to slip from between Malfoy's teeth. Draco reached a hand up to caress Harry's cheek, pushing his tongue farther into Harry's mouth. The atmosphere changed and it suddenly felt as if they were both wearing too many clothes. Harry untied Malfoy's pants while Draco ripped open Harry's shirt, pressing his lips against the soft skin at Harry's neck as he did so. Pulling the shirt off, Malfoy unbuttoned Harry's jeans, quickly tearing them from his body before taking Harry's pants off, his mouth kissing, licking, and sucking at the base of Harry's neck.

Together, Draco took Harry down with him, pleasing him in the way only a man could please another man.

Afterwards, with Draco laying beside him with an arm slung across his stomach, Harry felt the two of them slip into a peaceful and restful slumber, neither of them aware of the pulsating turquoise light from the chain on their wrists.

~~HP~~

* A/N: The spell Narcissa recited loosely translates to: I call upon the old magic as I bring forth these two (boys), asking that you create a bond to bind their bodies, minds, and souls sealed with blood shed willingly.


End file.
